


Rough Around the Edges

by Tormented_Gale



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Schoolyard Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tormented_Gale/pseuds/Tormented_Gale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: Schoolyard fight, SyncXGuy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Around the Edges

The yard is literally filled to the brim with kids of all ages. They create a small ring of people that serves as the Arena, a place where anyone can test their meddle against the Champion. No one has yet to beat him, and no one dares to really try anymore. The high school doesn’t exactly turn a blind eye to the event, but neither do they step in.

Guy never lets it get that far.

He lounges for today against a tree, picking dirt from under his fingernails, and waiting. It seems he can’t stop waiting; all the other kids eye him nervously, shifting from foot to foot, or stare with blind adoration that actually makes him uncomfortable.

Lunch is almost over. The Arena almost seems pointless now; he wishes he hadn’t set this up. There was always the chance of a good challenge, a good tumble, but no one was coming forward, and - 

"I’ll take you on."

Abruptly his boredom eases. Guy pushes himself to his feet, dusts his hands off on his oil-stained jeans - shop class always ended with him splattered in something - and he stares down his opponent. He grins and thrusts his hand out to be shaken.

And he can’t stop staring at this newcomer’s features. The pale, almost doll-like skin; the dark emerald eyes and the darker, spiked green hair; the sharp nose; the thin, curled lips; the way that tongue moistens them - 

Shit. This is not going to be an easy fight if he has to deal with his libido on top of it all.

"You good?" he asks, and even without looking, he knows this other young man is going to be a hard fight. There’s strength - and more than a challenge - in the grip on his hand, and Guy’s grin grows to a full smirk.

"Better than you," the newcomer assures.

"What’s your name? Wanna make sure I know who I beat," Guy boasted.

"Sync." Weird name, but it fits somehow. The snarky undertones of his voice do too. "So are we starting or are you just going to keep holding my hand?"

Guy drops it like it’s burning water and stalks to his end of the ring. When he arrives, he finds Sync on the other side, just standing there. He takes no defensive stance, doesn’t raise his fists, doesn’t even bother to look scared. In fact, he looks almost… bored.

Well that has to change. Guy charges.

Before he knows which way is up, he’s flipped over Sync’s shoulder and lands on his back. The crowd goes deathly silent and Guy, stunned, looks up dazedly into the face hovering over his, and if he reaches up he could probably pull Sync down - 

"First point, me."

Sync moves away to the other side, cracks his neck, and finally changes into a stance. As he pushes himself to his feet, Guy finds his grin growing, and knows his eyes are wide and his hands are shaking in anticipation.

"You’re nothing like they said you’d be - tough, difficult to fight," Sync drawls, and Guy is careful not to charge again.

Instead he struts - hears several in the crowd ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ - and when he thinks Sync’s guard is down, he lets out a roundhouse kick.  _Damn_ this new kid’s fast - Sync doesn’t even bat an eye before he dodges the attack.

Then it’s a throwdown fistfight, and Guy isn’t sure where his fists are or where Sync’s hitting him, but he’s having the time of his life. He laughs when Sync’s fist hits his chin, smirks when he smacks Sync into the ground, and they stare at each other, bloody and bruised and high on the rush.

"You’re not bad," Sync says at last, and spits blood off to the side.

"Neither are you," Guy contends. He hovers probably too long, but Sync doesn’t seem to mind. The other kids surrounding them, however, do.

"What the hell?! Who is this guy?"

"Well,  _I’m_ Guy,” he speaks up and there’s a collective groan. The kids start to dissipate, disillusioned by their champion.

"Guess you lost your groupies," Sync comments as he gets up and dusts himself off. He tilts his head back a little, hoping to slow the blood coming from his nose. "By the way, you look like shit."

"Thanks. Coming from you, that means a lot."

Sync snorts with laughter and winces at the stupidity of the action. In a second he’s raising an eyebrow as Guy’s arm comes to rest on his shoulders.

"So where the hell have you been hiding out?" Guy asks.

"Just transferred in today," Sync answers.

Guy smirks and leads Sync towards the infirmary (the nurse won’t question him, not anymore) and tries to chat up the green-haired boy. School just got a whole lot more interesting.


End file.
